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We found 10 result(s) that match your search "obsession":

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

 

Every one of us with diabetes hears that clock ticking away.

 

Glucose, insulin, ketones, tests.
The endless cycle never rests.
Fail once to heed the daily strife
And that day you may lose your life.

 

Alarmists are everywhere. Family, friends, strangers, all with the best of intentions.

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This is a breakdown of my first use of the Dexcom CGM. It's had its ups and downs, as you'll see. It's been peace of mind and obsession all in one. Mostly, it's been eye opening to what my diabetes is really like these days.

 

Day 1: I was really excited to start the first sensor. I went through all the setup process. I waited for the receiver to charge, downloaded the software, and prepped my skin for the sensor. The sensor comes with its very own insertion device. The insertion is nothing like the Minimed CGM that I used before. You see the needle in the device, just like you see the needle with the Minimed. However, this isn't a fast, hard insertion. It's up to your own fingers to stick the needle in. Surprisingly, past the initial sting of the needle, it really doesn't hurt at all. Much less than the Minimed for sure.

 

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Today, October 10th, is the Great Virtual Breast Fest. What on earth is that, you may ask?

Well, recently, Bill Maher equated breastfeeding in public to masturbating in public. Um, what?! Facebook has removed pictures that women have posted of themselves, nursing their babies. They will, however, allow pro-anorexia groups and even pedophiles. Breastfeeding, however, is verboten. Lovely.

I don't understand this obsession with breasts and with making breastfeeding out to be something obscene, something that should be done in a toilet or under a blanket or hey, how about you just don't leave the house while you're breastfeeding that kid because I might see a bit of skin while I'm scarfing down my wings at Hooters. People are totally ridiculous on the subject.
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As much as I complain or write emotional entries about this disease, I do have my days where I am thankful. Today is one of those days. I have to say that without diabetes I would lack some major motivation! I have to remind myself that without this disease I wouldn't be so motivated to stay healthy or be the person that I am. It's funny, because at any given time I could be feeling completely irritated by it or absolutely thankful. Because of Diabetes mellitus I am fit, driven, and obsessed with good food!
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The other night two of my buddies and I met up for a night of Racquetball and dinner together. This, like Disc Golf, has become a new obsession with me. It is yet another way for me to find a fun way to exercise. I think about playing all day long! It truly has become an obsession.
My favorite thing about Racquetball is the amount of sweat I produce. When you are exercising and sweating, you just know that you are doing something positive. Albeit, I am usually short of breath, slow to get to the ball, rarely win a game, and take breaks often, I still cannot get enough. Each time we play I find I can play harder longer. (READ MORE)

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As I was driving home from my dad's last night, Olivia and I started talking about her dad. He's not exactly a role model-type guy and they've had a very rocky relationship for the last two plus years.

The conversation started off discussing my concerns about The Bug and Olivia commented that she didn't think the other girls could get diabetes since it didn't run in the family. I said that we didn't know that, given that her father's side of the family has an obsession with hiding the facts. After a brief discussion of her grandfather's parentage and the fact that most of his family, and her grandmother's, for that matter, were still in Ireland, she told me that a comment her dad made years ago had stuck with her for a long time.
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There was a time I couldn't imagine taking my morning walk without a canine companion.

 

No. 2 was only a month or so old when we got Tanner from a shelter. He was timid and fearful of The Mr. but he and I got along great and he loved a walk. There were times when he'd get out of our fenced yard, but he always came back. Until the day he didn't.

 

Somehow I managed to find a rhythm without Tanner. We had a string of foster and stray dogs after Tanner left and I made sure to walk each of them. None of them as good on the leash as Tanner, though.

 

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Just as hyperglycemia is but the tip of the iceberg when discussing the physical ravages of diabetes, depression is but the most visible diagnosis of how diabetes affects our minds.

 

I'm not talking about the temporary states of anxiety or paranoia, lassitude or somnolescence, that accompany our glycemic highs and lows, but the long-term, "you should get psychological help for this" effects of living with chronic disease in general, and diabetes in particular.

 

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